Friends, Romans, Countrymen
by kangeiko
Summary: Roman AU. After a long absence, Aulus Tullius Silanus has returned to Rome, to visit his dear friend Bucco. With him come his young daughter, and a slightly scandalous agenda.


**Title**: Friends, Romans, Countrymen

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"Dominus, Aulus Tullius Silanus and his retinue have arrived. The house is ready to receive them at your leisure."

"No, it isn't! The gods piss on their eyeballs," Scaeva growled and thumped the table, "let Silanus wait. Bucco, yay or nay?"

"I believe that I am still master of my own household, Iulius," Bucco said mildly, watching Scaeva bristle at the demeaning over-familiarity. He took a deep drink from his flagon of wine and set it to one side with an air of finality. "I will receive them now, Gnaea."

The slave bowed and left hurriedly, her sandaled feet soundless across the marble floor.

"Bucco! We're not done here - I need an answer."

"You, or Drusus?" Bucco asked idly, watching Scaeva struggle to keep his expression clear. Really, Scaeva was a great many years too young for this; he had no idea what Drusus had been thinking. Granted, he was a winsome enough boy, with the clear eyes and good bones that would forever be in fashion, but Bucco's tastes had never run to such, and the effort was wasted on him. Better that Drusus should have sent a clear offer, rather than a pretty bribe all but delivered on a platter. "No matter. You shall have an answer, Iuli dulce, when I have made my decision," he said at last, soft and quiet. "Not one instant before. I will not be hurried - by you or by the Senate. Do we understand each other?"

Scaeva closed his mouth over whatever it is he had intended to say. "Perfectly," he bit out. He reached out to gather together the parchments he had brought for Bucco's perusal.

Bucco waved a hand languidly. "Leave them. I'll consider the matter some more." He was almost sorry for it, seeing the expression on Scaeva's face. Ah, so the young whelp did not have permission to bring the documents - so much the better. He could hardly snatch them back now, and even if they were worthless to Bucco, they evidently had some worth to young Iulius... even if it was simply to save his hide from Drusus's whip.

In any case, Bucco had other matters to attend to. "Sascha will escort you to the door," he said, and motioned Scaeva away.

The boy was still glaring and cursing fitfully as he was led away, Sascha ushering the reluctant guest with swift, practiced ease.

A little voice came from the shadows when Scaeva was out of earshot. "That was not necessary," his daughter said reproachfully.

"Servia Domita, you have an odd notion of necessity," his eyebrows rising, "was your eavesdropping thus?"

She had the good grace to flush. "Gnaea told me that Uncle Silanus was here. I came to see if you were ready to receive him."

"Indeed." He stood, and held his arms out, cruciform. "Well, I am as you see - do I meet with your approval?"

She ran a critical eye over him, then reached out and adjusted his toga, smoothing it down over his chest with no small amount of filial pride. "It was uneven," she explained at his questioning look. Then, "I suppose you'll do," she said grudgingly, "if there is nothing else you could wear."

So much like her mother! The parts that he had loved, at least, Bucco thought, saddened. Lately, every little thing his beloved Servia Domita did seemed to remind him of her mother and her treachery. It did not help that Servia had inherited her mother's high-boned Slavic looks, instead of the sturdier, more Roman lineage of her father. One of Bucco's philosopher friends had explained the reason for this: "children look like the parent that is the greatest threat," he had said. "It is to endear themselves to them. Oftentimes, that threat is the father - when he is not sure paternity, or when he does not want a child, or when he might be gone to war. In Servia Domita's case, her resemblance to her mother was warning of the woman's impending treason."

Perhaps. It was as good an explanation as any. He doubted that even lost, lamented Livia - the only name he had for her - would know better.

_Ah, Bucco, you obsess overly much about this woman,_ he thought to himself reproachfully. _She is long dead, and your child is here; your friends come to visit, the entire Senate courts your favour; your house is full and plentiful. Is it not time enough to think on other things?_ And, unbidden, _for what will become of your love for your child if all you see are her mother's sins?_

Domita was looking at him worriedly, her hands motionless and self-conscious on his shoulders. Bucco almost smiled at the concern in her expression. "One Senator's robes look much like another's, my dear; I dare say that Silanus will survive the shocking experience. Now," and he linked her arm through his companionably, "shall we go to meet your favourite Uncle?"

In the entrance hall, the commotion of arrival was reaching a fever pitch. If it had been any other visit, the size of the guest party would have been easily accommodated within the household; as it was, however, alternate arrangements had been required. Extra slaves, hired for the day, bustled back and forth, carrying linens and parchment and perfumes and animals in various cages.

"Uncle Bucco! Cousin Domita!" In a complete breach of decorum, one of their guests had been left unattended, sat on a nearby bench with an infant in her lap. "Forgive me if I do not move; this little one weighs more than he looks!"

"Dearest Tullia," Domita was at her side in an instant, her arms about her kinswoman. "It is so good to see you - and with a child, no less!"

She seemed not a whit discomposed by the change in her cousin, whereas Bucco was positively flummoxed by it. Gaia Tullia had been but a child when he had last seen her - a poor, sickly thing, causing her parents much worry as to her health - and he ahd despaired of ever seeing his namesake grown to womanhood. Now, here she was - and evidently married, by all accounts. _Truly, time has escaped me._ "Dulce Tullia," he said warmly, and touched her cheek. "Glad tidings, child. You look well."

"Thank you, Uncle. I feel well - motherhood agrees with me." She held the child up for inspection. "This is Quintus Decius Maro. Quintus Decius, this is your Uncle Bucco."

"I am very pleased to meet you, Quintus Decius," Bucco said gravely, and offered his hand to the infant, who instantly seized a finger to investigate. "He has a fine grip," he said approvingly.

"Yes, his father is a strong one - no, do _not_ turn that, there are fragile things in there!" Sighing, she handed the child to Domita and stood. "My dearest, the slaves will destroy all of our belongings if they are not supervised. I do hope you'll excuse me -"

"Oh, Gnaea is head of the household matters; she'll take care of it. Honestly, my dear, we do not have time to spend dealing with crates and baskets; you must tell me all about Napoli. Is it beastly? Is the weather perfect, or awful? Are the men apes, or nobilis?"

Bucco rolled his eyes. "Why don't the two of you take the child indoors and out of the sun? I will tend to the reception."

At this, Domita hesitated. "But Uncle Silanus -" she began.

"Uncle Silanus will see you at dinner," Bucco said firmly. "Now, go and catch up on the habits of Napoli menfolk with your cousin."

Gaia Tullia giggled and stood on tiptoe to kiss him firmly. "Thank you, Uncle," she said, prim and proper, and linked hands with Domita. Giggling like girls, the two retreated, the child still passing back and forth between them like an unwanted parcel. Doubtless it would be parked with an available slave at the earliest convenience.

All slaves, however, were currently engaged in making way for the leader of the retinue to step forward. There must have been some issues upon arrival, Bucco supposed, to keep Silanus occupied. It was customary for the head of house to enter first, and have his needs seen to, while the retinue unpacked; there must have been considerable trouble to keep Silanus outside in the heat, and have him send his daughter and young grandson into the cool air of the entrance hall.

"Dominus," Gnaea appeared at his elbow silently. "Silanus is ready to enter, if you consent."

"Of course I consent. Send him in."

The usual fanfare followed - formalities, the slaves speaking one over the other as ridiculous, unnecessary introductions were made.

Aulus Tullius Silanus stood in the entrance hall, grey-haired and face weather-beaten, still strong and broad-shouldered as befitting a man in his prime. He wore simple riding garb; no toga for him outside Roman walls. "Salve Bucco carissime," he said, raising his arms in greeting.

Bucco stepped forward and clasped him warmly, dipping down to kiss each weathered cheek. "Brother Silanus, it has been too long."

"Indeed. Six years?"

"Seven," the youngest member of the party piped up, unbidden. She was a little thing, hardly into womanhood, yet still with a pleasing spread of hips and breasts to draw the eye. She flushed a little to find people staring. "Not since southern Gaul - a long time ago."

The woman beside her - her nursemaid, perhaps? - hushed her immediately with considerable force. Bucco wondered a little at it; the slaves in his house had not had much control over _his_ progeny, no matter Domita's age. But, then, households differed. He knew that life could not have been easy for Silanus, away from Roman comforts.

"Of course," Silanus agreed, his eyes dark with humour, "the mountains were smaller, then. Bucco, you remember my youngest, Naevia Tullia?"

"I think - not as she is now," Bucco said, smiling. "I believe she was still a babe in arms, and hidden away from all eyes."

Silanus harrumphed. "Would that such a state of affairs had continued! Alas, you see me with two grown daughters, both harrying me to see their beloved uncle, day and night. And you, you brute, writing such impassioned letters, demanding that I return from my much-needed retirement - what am I to do in the face of such onslaught?"

"Surrender gracefully," Bucco advised, laughing, and patted Silanus on the back. "And come inside, all of you, I am being a terrible host. Domita has taken Tullia in for wine and a comparison of Napoli and Roman menfolk - they will join us for dinner, of course - but, until then, we must settle the remainder of your party, brother. Gnaea, see to the comfort of my dearest guests - anything you need at all, old friend, anything -" They turned to enter the main room, the majority of the party falling away to leave Silanus and Bucco alone in Bucco private rooms. Naevia Tullia gave Bucco one last look, curiously appraising, as she was ushered away.

Silently, a slave stepped forward as Silanus and Bucco entered and offered them both wine. They both accepted, and settled themselves across the couches, stretching out their limbs; Bucco, because he had been sitting with supplicants all day long; Silanus, because he had been astride a horse for days on end.

"So," Bucco said.

"So," Silanus agreed.

There was a long silence, and both men laughed.

"You would think that we would have something to say, after such a long silence," Bucco said, laughing. He paused. "I read your letters," he offered. "I appreciated their candor."

"Mmmm," Silanus said, raising the wine to his lips.

'Candor' was perhaps not the correct word for Silanus's assessment of Bucco's current situation. Penned in by supplicants from all sides, manoeuvring on the Senate floor had begun to resemble a spinning top.

"Have you had many offers?" Silanus asked, his face expressionless.

Bucco grimaced, and drained his flagon. "Too many. More than a reasonable man can refuse, perhaps."

"Ah." A hint of a smile lurked at Silanus's lips.

"It's not funny," Bucco said, almost petulant, and Silanus almost laughed out loud at that.

"My dear, it is a _little_ amusing. Only you would find yourself outmanoeuvred by too many women!"

"Oh, I haven't actually _seen_ the women!" Bucco said with some heat. "I have, however, seen their fathers, brothers, personal slaves, and any other gift or bribe that might be included as part of their dowry."

"Well, to be fair, it is to be a _political_ marriage," Silanus pointed out, ever practical. "Beauty and a charming disposition come second to a strong standing in the Senate and full coffers."

"I have both of those," Bucco said, scowling. "Why must I have a wife, as well?"

"Ah - that is for the gods to know."

"The gods, and Caesar," Bucco said. He grimaced. "No matter. It is not my intention to trouble you with this - this _nonsense_. Tell me of Napoli."

"Awful," Silanus replied immediately. "I quite felt like an exile, my dear. It is entirely too hot, and the company was atrocious."

Bucco buried his head in his hands. "You sound like Domita. Was there nothing you enjoyed of the peace and quiet?"

Silanus thought. "I do not say that it was torture. Merely that - had I had such important business there - I would have loathed being present for any length of time. I miss the Senate, Bucco. I miss _Rome._"

"And this business of yours - it is concluded?" Silanus had never adequately explained what his interest in Napoli's farthest reaches had been, merely mentioning the 'will of the gods' as reason for his relocation. Bucco had thought it to be a result of political manoeuvring, but maybe - maybe it had nothing to do with that?

Curious.

"For the moment. Recent events require my presence here."

Even more curious. "Oh?"

His guest gestured towards the door, where the bustle of settling in was still carrying on. "I have grown quite tired of listening to Naevia speak endlessly of your exploits and beg to see you again. You impending nuptials - to whomever you finally choose - have quite settled the matter. You made quite an impression her, you know."

Bucco tried, and failed yet again, to remember Naevia as anything more than a scrawny ten-year-old at her nurse's knee. "I did?" He asked helplessly. There was definitely something familiar about the girl - something around the eyes, maybe? - but he did not remember her beyond that.

It was odd, he thought. He almost had the strangest sensation of being watched.

Silanus's smile was almost predatory, his eyes fixed on someone over Bucco's shoulder. "Oh, yes."

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fin

**A/N:** I'm hoping that it's relatively clear who everyone is supposed to be, but just in case, some notes yes, it's a Roman AU. That means Latin names... or as near as I could get to them, anyway.

The names follow Roman naming conventions and are as follows:

Jack Bristow = Gaius Domitus Bucco  
Arvin Sloane = Aulus Tullius Silanus  
Nadia Santos/Sloane = Naevia Tullia Silana  
Sydney Bristow = Servia Domita Bucco  
Jacqueline Sloane = Gaia Tullia Silana.  
Julian Sark = Iulus Scaeva.

All other names are plucked at random, and are just _people_ as opposed to being specific Alias characters.


End file.
